Chapter 9. Deadlock

I am a deadlock.

Suppressed and isolated: feared by a great number of people.

If I could have shouted from the highest rooftops that I was a healer, I would have, but I can't. But what kind of person would make me out to be? I was unable to conjure spells or brew potions successfully. I was unsuccessful in my attempts to cultivate greens. I was neither a witch nor a faerie in any way. Even I wasn't some hybrid.

I did not fall into any particular category. I had the impression I was something other than merely a healer. I had seen what had happened in my nightmares. The number of occurrences is considered to be quite high.

When I bleed, the blood is a grayish-white color with flecks of black and white, and it sparkles like the stars in the night sky. At various points in time, both the light and the dark were chasing after me. Just who am I? And I had no idea what you were talking about.

It's possible there was a reason for the stalemate. At least I had Myra and the weird guy Oswin